Mechelle pov
Six years later, RED BLOOD PACK Airport.
In early May, RED BLOOD PACK was already warm, bathed in bright sunlight that enveloped the entire city.
Marc and I walked into the airport lobby. I was dressed in a stylish outfit—a red tank top paired with a light shawl, and large sunglasses almost covering half of my face. Marc followed beside me, looking more mature than kids his age, a young gentleman with designer sunglasses perched on his head and a small bag in hand. His eyes sparkled like stars in the sky.
"Mummy, it looks like Auntie is late again!" Marc lifted his head, looking at me and sighed helplessly. Auntie was always like this, either forgetful or late for appointments. No wonder she was still unmarried at her age.
